


With Gifts

by Michelle



Series: With-Verse [4]
Category: The Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Human/Vampire Relationship, M/M, Male Slash, Slash, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-29
Updated: 2011-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-15 11:28:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29063595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Michelle/pseuds/Michelle
Summary: It’s Orlando’s birthday and Viggo has an eventful night planned for them.
Relationships: Orlando Bloom/Viggo Mortensen
Series: With-Verse [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2129283





	With Gifts

**Author's Note:**

> Title: With Gifts  
> Author: Michelle  
> Email: michelle [at] waking-vision.com  
> Beta: Nancy  
> Summary: It’s Orlando’s birthday and Viggo has an eventful night planned for them.  
> Series: Fourth story in the “With”-Verse. Follows “With Teeth”, “With Roses and “With Kisses”.  
> Pairing: Viggo/Orlando  
> Genre: slash  
> Warnings: AU, vamp!fic  
> Rating: NC17  
> Disclaimer: Not true. Never true *sighs*.  
> Author’s Note: The ideas for this keep on coming... We haven’t reached the end of this tale by a long shot!

“We’re finished for today,” Orlando’s professor said, closing her copy of the script. She was a tiny woman somewhere in her fifties, with dark short hair and laugh lines around her mouth. During breaks she was always game for a joke or a little bit of fun, but during class she was the sternest person Orlando had ever met. She was never unkind or cruel, but Orlando could testify to the fact that she worked her students like slaves. _For your own good,_ she had said in the beginning of their first lesson, for all intents and purposes sounding like a grannie giving her many grandchildren advice.

“Thank God,” Matt muttered next to Orlando and he silently agreed. He had always participated in any drama clubs his school would offer, but never had it been as tiring as this. Orlando had always known that being an actor was hard work, but the singleminded seriousness that was drilled into him now was new to him. They were working on the script in such detail that he had already dreamed about Polidori and his short story – and not in a good way. On the whole, it was an intense process and he enjoyed it – in a way that included being totally wiped out mentally in the evenings. It was also rewarding, at least that’s what his professor had promised, but Orlando supposed that would only happen later in the game.

Despite working so thoroughly with the script, Orlando didn’t have the impression that he was getting any closer to uncovering what made Polidori tick. The frustrated look on Matt’s face suggested he was suffering from the same problem. Matt would play Orlando’s counterpart, the infamous Byron, and he was just as terrified (and excited) by the prospect as Orlando. At least that was what he had confessed to Orlando when they had walked to the tube last week.

Orlando liked Matt and thought the sentiment was returned. They had a lot in common and Orlando looked forward to spending more time with Matt and maybe find a friend in him. Because so far, Orlando hadn’t made fast friends at Guildhall yet and it was high time this finally changed. Matt was serious about acting and brought a lot of talent and intuition to the role of Byron. If anything, Orlando was certain he could learn a lot from the other man.

“Want to go for a beer and work on the script a little more?” Matt asked when they both shouldered their backpacks and made their way out of the building. As soon as they were outside, his hand went to his forehead, pushing longish bangs out of his eyes that the harsh January wind tended to blow in his face. It was a futile gesture, for a moment later he was robbed of his sight again. Orlando snickered good-naturedly at Matt losing his battle with the elements and his hair.

“You’re such an overachiever,” Orlando answered, still laughing. It wouldn’t be the first time that they ended their day like this: Going to the pub after classes to talk about Guildhall, acting and what they’d do if they ever made it big in the business. Matt’s idea of fame was every girl in the world having his poster over her bed. Orlando had been in hysterics at that confession. Matt wasn’t a looker in the classic sense. Rather, he had a certain geekish charm that you had to get past before being able to truly notice that he was, in fact, good looking.

Asked about his own goals, Orlando admitted he’d work until every person in the world knew him: “Until my face is looking down from Time Square. Or at least Picadilly. And then I’d buy an island and disappear.” Matt’s outraged question of why he would do something like that at the height of his fame was answered pragmatically: “Because then I’d be a legend.” In the mind of the public he would never change, never age. He would truly be immortal.

“So, what about that beer?” Matt drew Orlando out of his musings.

Orlando shook his head. “I can’t, sorry. Got other plans for the evening. Maybe next time?”

For a moment, Matt looked regretful, but then he simply shrugged and waved goodbye. “Next time, it is! See you tomorrow, Pollydolly!”

“Likewise, N. B.!” They both had taken to calling each other by their characters’ names and even if it didn’t help much with developing a character, it was a lot of fun. Especially when people were shooting them strange looks.

After they had parted, Orlando got his mobile out of his bag and switched it on. Sure enough, within moments, a dozen text messages arrived, all wishing him a happy birthday. He smiled, clicking through the various well-wishes.

Viggo’s text had already been waiting for him when he had gotten up in the morning. It simply read: “Happy Birthday, bold Orlando! I hope to see you tonight to celebrate with you. Love, Viggo. PS: Don’t argue with Sarah.” He wasn’t quite sure what the last sentence was supposed to mean, but the rest most assuredly gave him a warm fuzzy feeling. Especially the _Love, Viggo_.

Orlando was just reading through his sister Sam’s text when the mobile rang. A look at the display revealed that the caller was his mother. He smiled fondly at the mobile and took the call.

“Hi Mom,” he greeted.

“Happy Birthday, Orlando! May the next year bring only good things for you.” She paused for effect. “Like visits from your loving mother.” Her grin was audible through the line.

“Mom,” Orlando whined, stretching the word like it was made of bubblegum. “You know our flat is too crammed for you to stay there. But I’ll gladly come and visit you in Canterbury.”

“You just want to see me because of my cooking,” she groused, not at all seriously. “So you will come home on Saturday to celebrate with Sam and me?”

“Sure thing, I’m looking forward to it.” Today was Thursday and they had already agreed on Christmas that they would celebrate his birthday on the Saturday following the actual date. It was easier and more relaxed for everyone involved. That didn’t mean his mother was overly happy with the arrangement.

“But you’ll be all alone today! You don’t even have a cake.”

“Mom, don’t worry. Sarah will be there. And anyway, I have a date tonight.” There, he had dropped the bombshell and had managed to actually sound somewhat nonchalant about it.

“You’re seeing someone?” Sonia’s voice was shrill with excitement. “When did that happen?”

“In November, actually” Orlando admitted. “We’ve been dating since November.”

“And you didn’t say a thing on Christmas.” There was a tiny accusation in her voice, because Sonia Bloom always wanted to know what was going on in her son’s life. He had never been overly successful in keeping secrets from her.

“I didn’t want to jinx it.” Orlando couldn’t explain it any better. What he had with Viggo was special and it was also delicate as hell. He had wanted to keep it to himself until it felt a little more real.

“What’s that supposed to mean? That things go downhill when you tell your mother?”

“Of course not.” And truly, that wasn’t it at all. His mother had always been supportive from the beginning. Even when she had found him and a friend from school in a rather obvious state of undress in his room when he was fifteen. He was eternally grateful for the fact that his mom wasn’t one to make a scene. “I just... well, it was all pretty new back then. I wanted to see how things go before I let you know."

“So it’s something serious?” Her interest was clearly audible in her voice.

Orlando didn’t even have to think about the answer. “Yeah, it is. His name is Viggo. He owns an art gallery in Kensington.” That was all she needed to know for now. Everything else, especially the fact that Viggo was a vampire, could wait a little while (or – if Orlando had any say in the matter – a long while). It needed to be said in person anyway. However supportive his mother had been in the past where Orlando’s choice in partners was concerned, learning that he was in love with a vampire called for a whole other level of acceptance and he feared his mother would need time for that.

“I want to know everything,” Sonia said decisively. “I’m your mother after all, I’m entitled to hear at least some of the details!”

“And you will,” Orlando promised, vowing to himself that he would only share details that were mom-safe. “We can talk on Saturday.”

“You seriously want me to wait another two days for more information?”

“Yepp,” Orlando quipped and he heard his mother sigh.

“You’re an evil son, sometimes.”

“But you love me anyway.”

“That I do. See you on Saturday. Love you!” His Mom sent an audible kiss through the line before she ended the call and Orlando had to grin at the grand gesture.

When he put the mobile back in his pack, he pondered that a first step had been made. During the Christmas break, he had lain awake in his old room at home, trying to decide whether to tell his mom or not. In the end, he had bailed and kept his mouth shut. Even to himself he couldn’t quite explain this thing between Viggo and himself. What chance did he stand in making his mother understand? His feelings had been so raw and new that he didn’t want to share them. Didn’t want to share Viggo, in fact. He wanted the vampire to be his secret for a while longer. A good secret, a secret that made him smile for no apparent reason causing Sarah to sigh dramatically. He had wanted to wait a little longer to give this forming relationship a little more time to establish itself and feel less delicate. Slowly, he felt that they were getting there.

Still, he had no idea how he should break the news to his mother that he was dating a vampire. It was probably a bridge he would cross when he got there. One thing was sure though: he didn’t look forward to that particular conversation. Parents tended to wish for perfect partners for their children. And while Orlando was convinced that Viggo was the perfect partner for him (loving, devoted, experienced – and he could even cook), he didn’t think his mother would share that opinion.

That train of thought brought him to the rather silly question whether Viggo suffered from the same problem. When he met his vampiric drinking buddies, was he reluctant to share that he was dating a human? Did he even have vampiric drinking buddies? And what was the correct term from a vampire’s perspective anyway? Was Orlando _human_ , _mortal_ or maybe even _perishable_? He shuddered and decided that he probably shouldn’t think about such useless questions. They led nowhere and only illustrated how very much in the dark he still felt about everything concerning Viggo.

But that was supposed to be the fun of it, no? Finding out all these little details of a loved one was what made a new relationship exciting. Or maybe not. Maybe Orlando would prefer they were already at the point where they could predict each other’s reactions like an old married couple. That was what he found much more exciting than the current feeling around blindly.

The commute home was spent with even more useless brooding until Orlando finally managed to switch to a mindframe of anticipation. It was his birthday after all, so he was entitled to be curious and excited. He wasn’t quite sure how Viggo had learned of his birthday. He supposed Sarah had something to do with it, because she had been stopping by Viggo’s gallery repeatedly since Viggo – after conferring with Liv on the issue – had decided that it would truly be a good idea to show some of Sarah’s art. She had been walking on clouds ever since and it was likely that she had tipped Viggo off. In any case, Viggo couldn’t have known for long, so whatever he had planned for tonight was unlikely to have included elaborate planning. On the other hand, Viggo had a knack for the surprising and unusual. Keeping things interesting apparently came natural to him. Which meant, Orlando expected the impossible: Something surprising and unexpected that hadn’t taken Viggo much time to plan.

When Orlando finally got home Sarah practically launched herself at him as soon as he opened the door. There was a huge grin on her face when she hugged him fiercely in the hallway: “Happy Birthday, Orlando! And all the best from Mike and me!” She seemed reluctant to let go of him, but relented in the end (probably because of the rather cold draft coming in through the still open door) and Orlando could see Mike standing behind her. His grin was as big as his girlfriend’s and he held up a huge cake. From the looks of it, it was made entirely of chocolate and cream. Yummy!

“Happy Birthday, man! Blow out the candles and make a wish!” Happily, Orlando complied, taking in a big gulp of air. He made a show of blowing out the candles and Sarah whooped happily when the last flame died away. His wish was an all-encompassing one: That this new year would be a good one and that good things would happen in his life. That Viggo would still be by his side for his next birthday. That they’d be a couple secure in their relationship by then. That he would know everything there was to know about Viggo’s past.

Maybe that was too much to wish for, but Orlando had never been overly modest.

He must have made a silly _I’m-in-love_ face, because Sarah commented: “I just know what you were wishing for.”

Orlando ducked his head. “That’s a secret or it won’t come true. So shut up!”

“Whatever you say.” Sarah laughed and raised a conspiratorial eyebrow. “Come on, let’s eat that cake before Viggo shows up.”

The cake was heavenly and Orlando helped himself to two slices before he had to admit defeat because he was utterly full. They decided to put the rest in the fridge to be devoured later, maybe as a latenight snack.

Sarah looked at her watch and stood up, making a shooing motion at Orlando. “Oh damn, we’re a little late. You...” she pointed at Mike, “do the dishes. And you...” here she pointed at Orlando, “in your room. There are clothes on the bed. Put them on.”

Orlando looked at her aghast and was so shocked by her unusual request that he got up from his chair before his brain kicked in and he wondered why he was listening to her. She wasn’t usually this bossy. “You know, Sarah, I love you to bits. But I’m sure you know I can dress myself. I don’t really need supervision.”

Sarah’s brows knitted together and she breathed audibly. He could actually see her mentally counting to ten. If Orlando didn’t know better he would fear steam to come out of her ears any moment. “Well, if I let you wear whatever you want to wear, you’ll leave the house in green socks and a red shirt. We can’t have that, at least not tonight. You’re supposed to look nice and elegant. Actually, the request was for _dashing_.”

He always looked dashing, thank you very much! Even if it wasn’t a word he usually used to describe himself. “Sarah Marie Brown. I. Can. Dress. Myself.” Orlando stressed each word like the concept might be alien to Sarah. She huffed and threw her hands in the air.

“I knew this wouldn’t work,” she muttered, mostly to herself. Then she pointed her finger at him. “What did Viggo say?”

Orlando looked at her, bewildered. “When? Why?” A little belatedly, he added: “Huh?”

“What did he tell you?” Sarah rolled her eyes. “In the morning?”

Orlando wanted to explain to her that they hadn’t talked in the morning. Because – _duh_ – vampires just weren’t around during the day (and Sarah should really know that). Then he remembered Viggo’s text: _Don’t argue with Sarah._ He shook his head, it was all most weird.

Instead of answering her, he turned around and headed for his room, dragging his feet a little sheepishly. How bad could it possibly be? He took a deep breath, held it, and opened the door to his room. He looked at the clothes and blinked. Lying on his bed was a black tuxedo, complete with matching shoes, a white dress shirt and even a bow tie! He didn’t own anything this fancyful and had assumed he never would – he didn’t have much occasion to wear a tux, after all. With trepidation, he walked the few steps to the bed and looked at the label of the tuxedo jacket. Swallowing hard, he repeated the gesture with the dress shirt. This outfit was probably worth as much as his tuition. Maybe even more.

“Where did these clothes come from?” he asked in a small voice.

Sarah smiled, taking something like sadistic delight from his shell-shocked response. “Make a guess,” she prompted.

Orlando shook his head in disbelief, needing no more of an answer. “That man is crazy,” he said increduously.

“Yeah,” Sarah agreed, “crazy about you! Put them on already. I can’t wait to see you in a real tuxedo.” She produced a small digital camera from her back, smirking at him. “I came prepared, you know!”

Orlando laughed, and the tension was broken. He forced Sarah to turn around while he dressed and she grumbed that he was no fun at all and she hadn’t figured him to be a prude. Orlando looked into his wardrobe mirror and was flabbergasted. The clothes fit like they were tailor-made. Apparently, Viggo had a good eye.

“Okay, you can turn around now. I’m decent.”

“As if,” Sarah muttered, but when she saw him all she could do was gape. “Wow.” She fell silent for a while, searching for a better word, but then shook her head. “Just wow. You look like a movie star.”

“A movie star would probably be able to master this.” Orlando took one end of the bow tie. It was hanging around his neck in a sad little knot.

“You’ll get there eventually,” she encouraged. “Maybe Viggo can fix that bow tie for you?” She wriggled her eyebrows suggestively. At the words, Orlando turned back to the mirror and looked himself over critically.

“You think he’ll like it?”

“Like it? Orlando, you look gorgeous. He’ll not be able to keep his hands off you. The way you look, even I’m getting weak in the knees.”

“I’ve heard that,” came a shout from the kitchen and Sarah raised an eyebrow.

“Anyway,” she continued like she hadn’t heard Mike’s objection. “You look stunning. Or rather: dashing!”

“Good. I feel a little like James Bond,” Orlando admitted. He made the iconic Bond-turn and pointed an imaginary gun in Sarah’s general direction. She giggled.

“Maybe Viggo will buy you a Martini then.”

There was a moment of silence before Orlando hung his head and said contritely: “Sorry I argued.”

Sarah waved the apology away. “Don’t worry about it. Your face was priceless, a true Kodak moment! It’s only that tonight was supposed to be a surprise, so Viggo couldn’t tell you what to dress for.”

“You’re the best,” Orlando said sincerely, but apparently, Mike was still listening in. “Don’t tell her, it’ll go right to her head!”

Sarah put her hands over her heart in a dramatic gesture and started to sway. “You wound me, lover o’ mine! Why do you say such things?”

“Because I’m the poor sod doing the dishes while you two are having a moment.”

Orlando was trying not to laugh, but he failed spectacularly. He went back to the kitchen and clapped Mike on the back. “Better you than me!” Mike just gave him a look that promised a slow and painful death if he said another word.

“All right, guys,” Sarah said, joining them in the kitchen and taking up a towel to dry the dishes, “Viggo should be here any minute.” Orlando looked at his watch, it was not even seven yet. His anticipation grew.

He had been watching Sarah and Mike work in companionable silence for a few minutes when the bell rang. He jumped up from his chair and fidgeted with his jacket.

“I guess that’s my date!” he said a little nervously. Orlando went to the door and opened it, only to be greeted by the biggest bouquet of red roses he had ever seen. Viggo was barely visible behind it.

The bouquet moved a little downwards and Orlando could make out Viggo’s face, wearing a mischievous expression. “Happy Birthday, my beloved.”

Kissing was out of the question with this many thorny flowers between them, so Orlando made do with smiling lovingly at Viggo and taking the bouquet from him. It truly was huge. The roses had long stems and were dark red, smelling beguilingly. Orlando was duly impressed, before he became worried. Their vase problem was still very much an issue and from the looks of it a beer glass wouldn’t do here. The huge bouquet would simply tip the glass over, because it was so heavy. He didn’t have anything to put the roses in, expect for a bucket. And that would totally ruin the effect.

He bit his lip in thought. “What’s the problem?” Viggo asked innocently, walking into the flat behind Orlando.

“The roses are beautiful. But unsurprisingly, I don’t have a vase for them.”

Viggo chuckled. “It’s good then that I also brought this.” And he produced a vase from behind his back, made of glass and more than big enough for the purpose.

Sarah chuckled, dishtowel still in hand, and Viggo winked at her. He looked very pleased with himself. Orlando, in turn, was speechless. That man never ceased to surprise him. It took a while until he found his voice again.

“Well, lets get these flowers in the water, so that I can kiss you properly.”

“I very much like that suggestion,” Viggo agreed and went to the sink to fill up the vase. He put it on the kitchen table and Orlando wrestled the roses into their new home. In the end, all four of them stood around the table, looking at the impressive display.

“I think I was promised a kiss.” Viggo interrupted the silence and before Orlando had a chance to react, he was swept around and kissed feverishly. It was no mere hello-kiss. Rather, it was of the kind that weakened your knees and made you feel lightheaded. Orlando held on tightly and enjoyed the feel of Viggo’s body flush against him. The vampire’s cool, strong hands were on his neck, stroking lovingly. And Viggo’s tongue drew little sounds of pleasure from Orlando. He totally forgot that they had an audience.

When Viggo let Orlando up so that he could draw in some much needed air, Orlando noticed that Sarah had a dreamy look on her face while Mike had turned around and was concentrating fully on scrubbing a plate.

“You taste all sweet and tempting,” Viggo whispered into Orlando’s ear. Apparently, he wasn’t quiet enough, because Sarah sighed dreamily.

“Must be the cake,” Orlando offered and Mike cleared his throat. Sarah cuffed his arm and he attacked the plate even more vigourously.

Viggo wasn’t deterred. He took Orlando by the shoulders, holding him at arm’s length. He let his eyes roam over the elegant attire, took in the crispy white dress shirt, the tux in shimmering black and the still undone bow tie.

Orlando could read in Viggo’s eyes that he liked what he saw. “You look absolutely breathtaking,” Viggo said reverently. Orlando felt himself blush. “I could say the same about you.”

Viggo had dressed up as well, his tuxedo matched Orlando’s. The only difference was that he wore one of the roses in his buttonhole. Well, that and the fact that his bow tie formed a perfect bow.

Sarah cleared her throat audibly, waving her camera in their general direction. “I still have this, you know. We really have to take a picture, you two look fantastic!”

“Very well, but first things first.” Viggo approached Orlando and tied his bow with deft fingers. When he was done, he gave his work a critical once over. Satisfied, Viggo kissed Orlando on the nose and then hugged him close, smiling at Sarah who already had her camera at the ready.

“Okay, say cheese,” Sarah directed and both men smiled for the camera. _Click_. “Viggo, give Orlando a kiss,” she ordered and Viggo readily brushed a kiss against Orlando’s cheek while the younger man gazed at the camera, a loving expression on his face. _Click_. “Perfect. Now shoo! I’m sure you have better things to do than stand around in the kitchen.”

“Naturally,” Viggo agreed and tugged at his shirt and jacket, as if he was making ready to leave.

“So, what’s planned for tonight?” Orlando asked in the hope of getting a little sneak preview.

Viggo assumed a mysterious air. “Well, that’s a secret. We’ll get in the car and then I will whisk you away to a destination unknown.” Viggo held out his hand and Orlando took it readily.  
  


“Sounds like a plan. Can’t wait to get there.” And somehow, he sounded like he meant much more than their destination tonight.

~*~

Once they were in the car and Viggo had pulled into traffic, it became evident that they were going in the direction of the centre of London and Orlando started to wonder what Viggo had in store for him. Obviously, he had wanted Orlando to dress up for the occasion, so maybe they’d end up in a restaurant with a tie-policy. Or maybe Viggo wanted to take Orlando to a top-secret vampire bar/club/establishment – in case such a thing even existed. Also with a tie-policy. Or maybe Viggo had only wanted to see him in a tuxedo – Orlando didn’t put that past the vampire.

“You’re quiet,” Viggo interrupted Orlando’s fruitless musings without taking his eyes off the rather dense evening traffic.

Orlando shrugged. “Just making guesses where you’re taking me.”

Viggo’s lips curled into a smile. “You’ll know in a moment. But don’t expect too much. I had to plan this on a moment’s notice, because someone – and I’ll certainly not look at anyone in particular – didn’t mention that his birthday was coming up.” Viggo, despite saying the opposite, gave Orlando a pointed look and Orlando blushed.

“Well, how do you work that into a conversation elegantly?” Orlando wanted to know. “I can’t just say: ‘Hey Viggo, nice to see you, and by the way – my birthday is next Thursday.’”

“Sarah, on the other hand, had no problem being blunt. She simply asked me on our last meeting if I already had a present for you or if I needed pointers. Imagine my look of surprise.” He chuckled and Orlando noticed that Viggo was taking a sharp left, obviously turning around. Apparently, they were looking for a space to park the car. He looked a little more closely at their surrounding to determine where they were. As he had suspected, the were in the middle of town, Haymarket to be precise.

He concentrated on their conversation again. “Mhm, since you’re so intent on knowing my birthday, I think it’s only fair that I know yours as well.”

“True,” Viggo said and stopped the car because he had found a suitable spot. To Orlando’s eyes, it looked awfully narrow, especially for a car that somewhat resembled a cruise ship, but then a screen came to life on the dashboard showing the rear of the car while Viggo started to carefully drive backwards, guided by the camera and some helpful beeps. Orlando was momentarily distracted by the thought that the Mercedes wasn’t a cruise- but rather a spaceship and therefore missed what Viggo was saying. He only heard the tail end of his sentence.

“Sorry, you were saying?”

Viggo shut off the engine and repeated himself. “I said, October 20th.”

“Good to know, that means I have a lot of time to think of an appropriate present.” Another thought occured to him: “But you left out the year.”

“I did.”

“Something tells me you’re being voluntarily secretive.”

“Whyever would I do that?” Viggo took on an innocent air.

“No idea.”

Viggo looked at him in an earnest fashion. “You really want to know?”

“I really want to know.” Which was true. Everything concerning Viggo interested him.

“Okay, then: October 20th, 1781.” Viggo’s eyes were still fastened on Orlando’s face to gauge his reaction, but Orlando’s mind was pretty much drawing a blank upon hearing the year.

“Wow,” he said eventually. “That makes you...” He tried to come up with Viggo’s actual age, but there was a reason why he was taking acting classes instead of studying to become an engineer: He just couldn’t do math. At all.

“.. really, really old.” Viggo put in helpfully with a hint of amusement while his expression was still careful and guarded. The look on his face clearly told Orlando to _not go there_. “Does that frighten you?”

It was a valid question. Intellectually, Orlando had known that Viggo had to be much older – hell, Sarah had even pointed it out to him in the very beginning. Back then, he had decided not to dwell on it, but hearing it spelled out like that was making him a tad nervous. He had never been a history buff, but he had at least a vague idea of all the historical events that had taken place during those centuries. All the stuff Viggo must have seen in his time – it was amazing! The idea of living this long was exiciting and fascinating. On the other hand, it also scared him. However, the important thing was: Viggo was still Viggo. The additional knowledge of his age didn’t change that.

“You’re still very good looking for your advanced age, I must say,” Orlando quipped, but it didn’t change Viggo’s serious mien. “Seriously. Yes, it freaks me out a bit. But the alternative to you being you is that you died sometime in the 19th century. You’d be dust by now and we would have never met. I’d certainly not prefer that.”

Now Viggo smiled. “Sometimes, you can be very practical.” Viggo effectively ended their conversation by leaning over and kissing Orlando soundly on the lips, with just enough tongue to leave a distinct promise of _more to come later_ tingling in Orlando’s belly. “Want to see your birthday present?”

“Yes, please,” Orlando said eagerly. “I’ll put myself in your capable hands.”

“A very wise decision,” Viggo smirked and exited the car, to hold the door open for Orlando.

Orlando wasn’t quite sure whether they had already reached the stage were public handholding was welcome, so he simply walked next to Viggo. Viggo seemed less undecided, because he grabbed Orlando’s hand after a few metres, to hold it firmly in his own. It was a good feeling to walk like this, close enough that their shoulders brushed from time to time. It was so good in fact, that Orlando nearly missed where Viggo was leading him, because the warm feeling of love thoroughly distracted him from his surroundings.

When he finally caught on, he couldn’t quite believe it. They were walking towards the _Theatre Royal Haymarket_ , where a throng of well-dressed people was waiting to be allowed inside. To the side, he could see the huge poster for the current production flopping lazily in the wind. Upon realizing what was to come, he drew in a sharp breath.

“You didn’t,” he said in disbelief.

“I certainly did,” Viggo assured him.

“But it’s been sold out for months in advance.”

Viggo chuckled, pleased to see that his surprise was a success. “I pulled a few strings.”

The thought of Viggo doing something highly illegal or morally punishable flashed through Orlando’s mind and Viggo squeezed his hand. “Nothing like that,” he guaranteed. “I simply know a guy who knows a guy. The usual.”

He’d read the reviews for this production of _Waiting for Godot_. The two actors – Ian McKellen and Patrick Stewart, for chrissake! – were a guarantee that it turned out to be a success. And truly, the critics loved them, the play was sold out and despite Orlando wanting to see it, he had had no chance to get a ticket – especially one for a price he could afford. That Viggo had picked that particular play as Orlando’s birthday present just showed that Orlando truly was an open book to him. Which, in this case, Orlando didn’t mind at all.

“This is amazing,” Orlando enthused. He was practically bouncing. “Thank you so much! This is the best birthday present ever!”

“I’m glad you like where this is going, but you’ve seen nothing of the play yet,” Viggo pointed out, even though he obviously enjoyed Orlando’s enthusiasm. “You might still hate it.”

“Impossible! It stars Magneto _and_ Picard! What could possibly go wrong?”

“You do realize that Magneto and Picard are not real?” Viggo asked, arching an eyebrow.

“Of course I do!” Orlando waved a hand at Viggo, dismissing his objection as minor. “Anyway. I never thought I’d see this!”

“Then let’s.”

~*~

The play turned out to be just as mindblowingly good as Orlando had expected. He had seen _Waiting on Godot_ on stage before, but it had been a much more modest production. Patrick Stewart and Ian McKellen played so well off each other that Orlando could only sit there and gape. The rest of the audience seemed to feel the same, because once the curtain fell, applause came up with the loud roar of a waterfall and the audience stood up in unison to play hommage to the actors.

He was silent when they left the theatre, thinking over what he had seen and simply enjoying the moment.

“You are practically glowing,” Viggo commented at last when they were back in the cold January night.

“I am? Might be because I’m happy. Or because I’ve just seen the bloody best production of _Waiting for Godot_ ever.” Orlando bounced a little, deciding that it wasn’t just the play that put him in such good spirits – it was Viggo, who, after knowing him for only three months, had found the perfect birthday present for him. “And because I’ve seen it in the best company ever!” he added, leaning in for a thank-you kiss. Viggo was more than willing to comply.

“Happy Birthday,” he whispered into the kiss and Orlando had to smile. The moment was interrupted by Orlando’s stomach growling loudly. Viggo broke the kiss, looking amused.

“Hungry?” Yes, definitely. While Sarah’s calory-bomb had been a good snack, Orlando was more than ready for some real food.

“Yeah, I could eat,” Orlando said and Viggo snorted, obviously feeling the answer was an understatement. “We’re in the centre of London after all, I’m sure we can find a place where I can get a burger or something.”

Now, Viggo looked positively scandalized. “It’s your birthday! That’s not a burger occasion.”

“It isn’t?”

“Not at all. Would you like me to escort you to an appropriate place where you may dine?” Viggo asked formally, underlining the question with a perfect bow. Orlando had to laugh before realizing that the gesture probably wasn’t just a show for Viggo, but something that had been an everyday occurence when he had been young. He shook his head to chase the thought away.

“Lead on then,” he said, taking Viggo’s arm.

“It’s not far, we can walk,” Viggo promised and Orlando’s stomach was happy that it would be fed soon. They truly didn’t walk long when Viggo stopped in front of an impressive building and said with flourish: “Voilà!”

Their destination was a hotel, looking elegant and understated from the outside. However, as soon as they were inside, Orlando knew he would be in for a bit of luxury. Apparently, Viggo had preordered a table for them ( _That man simply thought of everything,_ Orlando realized with a mental shake of his head.) and a valet led them to their table in the corner of a cozy restaurant. They were surrounded be three walls, which made for an intimate location. This first impression was only reinforced when Orlando noticed the art on the wall. He took a closer look before reclining in one of the comfortable leather chairs, and raised an inquisite eyebrow at Viggo. The photographs lining the wall were a healthy mix of portraits and erotic art. There was definitely a lot of naked skin showing.

“Like what you see?” Viggo asked, searching Orlando’s face for a reaction, and Orlando nodded.

“Yeah,” he answered, but he was looking at Viggo and not at their surroundings. “It never gets boring with you!”

“That’s good to know,” Viggo smiled and continued while a waiter handed them their menues. “I take it you’ve never been here before?”

Orlando chuckled at Viggo’s polite way of asking. Surely Viggo was well aware of Orlando’s status as a mostly broke student. “Of course not, my venues usually include _Pizza Hut_ and _McDonald’s_.”

Viggo took that in stride and launched into an introduction. “The _Browns Hotel_ is an old favourite of mine and not only because of the decoration.” He looked at a photograph above Orlando’s head, depicting a long-limbed woman showing off her spectacular legs. “The art is by Terence Donovan. They even have a room where they hung all the steamy photographs.”

“Even more steamy, huh?” Orlando felt another blush coming on.

“Don’t worry, we’ll get to the steamy part later.”

“In private, I hope!” Orlando all but squeaked and Viggo had to laugh.

“You’re not an exhibitionist, then? You could have fooled me back in _Fangtastic_.”

Now Orlando truly blushed. He hadn’t managed to break himself of the habit yet, but fortunately the light was dim. “Well, that was one of my more daring moments.” In truth, he wasn’t quite sure what had gotten into him then. He was a bit embarassed that he had given up the goods five minutes into their conversation. But the way he knew Viggo now, he supposed neither of them had acted under their normal modus operandi when it came to meeting people. Maybe someone had bespelled them. Seeing that vampires truly existed, Orlando wouldn’t be at all surprised to learn that other – supposedly mythical – creatures were real as well. In any case, he was thankful Sarah had dragged him into that club. He wouldn’t have wanted to miss this chance for the world!

“Have you come to a decision yet?” Viggo interrupted his musings.

“Huh?”

“Dinner, remember.” Viggo pointed at the forgotten menu in Orlando’s hands, who looked at it as if he didn’t know where it had suddenly come from.

“Right, food. I wanted some.”

“Exactly.” Viggo shook his head in amusement. “You know, sometimes I don’t even need to read your mind to know what you’re thinking. Your face is giving everything away.”

“Oh, god.” Orlando’s blush deepened and he lifted the menu to cover his face. This was so embarassing. How was he ever to become a good actor, if he couldn’t even control what was showing on his face?

Viggo was unfazed, finding the topic rather fascinating. “Did I ever tell you that this is one of the things I love most about you?”

“You do?” Orlando asked hesitantly. He experimentally lowered the menu enough that he could see Viggo. The vampire’s face was sincere, so maybe he wasn’t saying these things solely to get on Orlando’s good side. And then there was the fact that he had just used the l-word in a rather conversational tone, but Orlando was wise enough not to comment on that.

“Absolutely.” Viggo nodded and turned serious. Apparently, the topic was of some importance to him. “Your soul is in your eyes. You always wear your heart on your sleeve. You’re honest; I’m not sure you could mislead someone or outright lie, even if you wanted to.”

Again, there went his dream of becoming a good actor. However, they weren’t discussing his career choices, but his character. Those were two seperate things. Hopefully.

“And you like that?” Orlando was doubtful. From where he was standing, it wasn’t so much wearing his heart on his sleeve as it was putting his foot in his mouth. Which generally led to all kinds of problems. It was truly embarassing.

“Of course! It’s a charming trait, in my opinion. Honesty always is. You’re a rare breed, Orlando. People as open and undisguised as you aren’t at all common in this day and age. Maybe they’ve never been common.” Viggo paused for a moment, trying to decide whether he should continue. “What do you think? How many people in your situation would have given me a chance?”

What a question! Viggo was one of the most caring and loving people he knew. Who wouldn’t want someone like that in their life? “All,” he said with conviction. “Because you’re gorgeous and courteous and noble. And you don’t snore.”

“That’s because I don’t sleep,” Viggo deadpanned.

“Still, you have no idea how important that can be! Just accept that you’re the perfect boyfriend!”

“See, heart on your sleeve,” Viggo chuckled, but became serious quickly. “You’re partial, so your opinion doesn’t reflect what the general public is thinking. That you’re able to look past my one big fault just shows how special you are.”

“And what would that one big fault be?” Orlando asked, puzzled.

Viggo laughed mirthlessly and then drew up his upper lip, showing sharp teeth. “What do you think? Most people don’t see what you see, Orlando. It’s easier to just see the vampire, and that’s all I’ll ever be to them.”

“Then they’re missing out on a lot,” Orlando said with a final note to his voice. “And by the way, I’ll take the monkfish curry.” He flipped the menu closed, effectively ending this topic.

After Orlando had ordered and Viggo had added a bottle of champagne to Orlando’s curry, the conversation turned to other things.

“So, how is _The Summer of Ghosts_ coming along?” Viggo asked. While Orlando had forgotten to tell Viggo right away that his class would do a play on vampires, he had remedied his mistake shortly after. Viggo had been interested and amused, but he didn’t share Orlando’s notion of this all being fate.

“It is fun,” Orlando said in a voice that suggested a _but_ was coming. Viggo raised an eyebrow inquisitely, wordlessly urging Orlando to continue. “It’s just... I’m working so hard on Polidori, but I’m unable to crack his character. I have no idea what makes this man tick. The audience is supposed to sympathise with him, but at the same time he can be quite a dick. He’s whiny and a loser. And he’s headbutting with Byron all the damn time. I just don’t know why. Why did he agree to be Byron’s physician if he didn’t like the guy?”

“Mhm,” Viggo gave Orlando’s words serious thought, trying to add his own insights to the topic. “Have you considered that Polidori might have been attracted to Byron? I admit, I’ve always had a weak spot for _The Vampyre_ , because it was published in the year I became a vampire. I always thought it was an interesting coincidence. Anyway: Polidori’s writing, and even Ruthven’s character were largely influenced by Byron. I think Polidori at least hero-worshipped him, his difficult character notwithstanding. And since Byron’s bisexuality isn’t much of a secret... well. You do the math.” Viggo shrugged.

Orlando mulled over Viggo’s words. It made sense and it was an interesting angle to pursue. He could at least try and read the script with that knowledge in mind and see where it got him. And he should probably discuss it with Matt to get his opinion on the matter.

His thoughts were interrupted when their waiter brought his food. He dug in with gusto while Viggo was observing him closely, obviously taking as much pleasure from watching as Orlando did from actually eating. He found it less and less strange to eat alone. The awkwardness of their first date had all but vanished.

“You might be on to something,” he told Viggo, shoveling more curry down his throat. “But even more fascinating is the fact that you became a vampire in 1819.” All the books he’d read had not been lost on Orlando. It would have been a shame if he didn’t at least remember the year the first modern vampire story had been published.

“Oh,” Viggo said, surprise visible on his face. “I said that out loud?”

“Yes, you did.” Orlando nodded sagely. “That’s a story I’d love to hear.”

Viggo’s hand went up to the golden necklace he was wearing and Orlando wondered whether he was even aware of the gesture. “I guess you have one wish free since it’s your birthday.”

“Exactly, and I also promised to keep prodding.”

Viggo shrugged as if it wasn’t a big deal, but that didn’t fool Orlando. Viggo liked to hide away his past and had tried repeatedly to convince Orlando that it wasn’t at all important to who he was today. Orlando disagreed and he was quite sure not even Viggo himself believed that tale. If it wasn’t important, it wouldn’t be so painful for Viggo to talk about it. But he was making an effort for Orlando and Orlando was endlessly thankful for that.

“Well, you’ll have to hear the story at one point, I guess. It’s nothing special after all.” There, Viggo was downplaying things again.

“Nothing special? It might be just me, but I think becoming a vampire is a pretty lifechanging event.”

“You decide,” Viggo offered and filled Orlando’s glass with more champagne. “It’s a rather unoriginal story as well, because it was all a woman’s fault.”

Orlando raised an eyebrow, thinking of the wife Viggo had mentioned at one point. “Now I really want to hear that story.”

“Well,” Viggo seemed to gather his courage, deciding where to start his tale. “I grew up in a small town in Denmark. I had a pretty boring, usual childhood, I guess. But I always thought there must be more to life than this little patch of earth. I wanted to see the world.” Viggo shook his head a little, as if, from his current perspective, he found the notion absurd.

“So you are actually from Denmark?” Orlando cut in, trying to verify something as fact that he had suspected. Of course, he had pondered where Viggo had grown up, but they hadn’t talked about it yet. And since his English didn’t have a hint of an accent, it was just as possible that his name was nothing more than the remnant of an emigrating forefather.

“Yes, of course,” Viggo confirmed. “Doesn’t my name kind of suggest that?” After a pause, Viggo continued. “So, I left Denmark to study in Marseille.”

“What did you study?” Orlando interrupted again.

“You’re kind of inquisite today,” Viggo commented, amused. “I studied law.”

“You’re a lawyer?” The question was asked in disbelief. Somehow, he had expected that Viggo had always made his money with art. It was one of those professions that were more a calling than a job. Law, on the other hand, struck him as something you studied when you lacked a better idea.

“I still have the certificate somewhere if you need proof,” Viggo said. “Though, I guess it’s not worth much in this century.”

“But why law? You don’t strike me as uptight and boring.” Orlando couldn’t quite wrap his head around the idea.

Viggo chuckled. “Oh, if you knew what kind of parties we used to throw! Before or after, I’ve never been as drunk as I was then. But, to answer your question: If you wanted to be a respected citizen, you could choose between law and medicine. Both were a safe bet. And,” here Viggo paused for effect, “I couldn’t take the sight of blood, so law it was.”

“You’re kidding!” Orlando was gaping at Viggo.

“No, I’m quite serious. It made me so queasy, I would probably have been the worst doctor in the whole of France. I decided to not put myself through that.”

“So becoming a vampire cured you of that?” Orlando remembered Viggo telling him that becoming a vampire had changed him profoundly. It just hadn’t occured to him that something as fundamental as this was part of that change.

“Thankfully, it never was an issue afterwards. It was a bit like an old fear you grew out of. Becoming a vampire probably reprogrammed my genes or something. There are some things we all have in common, because we need those abilities to survive. Being able to look at blood is a pretty basic need for a vampire, I guess.” Viggo actually looked amused by his own pseudo-scientific musings. “Anyway, we’re digressing. When I was still a student, I met Marianne. She was the daughter of my landlord, a beautiful girl. Smart, too. I fell hopelessly in love with her. I could win her heart in the end, and we married after I finished my studies. We rented a flat in Marseille and I started to work as a lawyer. Two years later, Marianne gave birth to a daughter. Everything was perfect. We were one happy family.” Viggo sounded wistful.

“I didn’t know you had a daughter,” Orlando said quietly. There had been unfathomable grief in Viggo’s eyes when he had first told Orlando about his marriage. Back then, he had not mentioned a daughter, which only suggested that her loss grieved him even more.

“Yes, her name was Cecille. She had her mother’s looks. Everyone said so. She was quite the whirlwind as well. She would keep me from my work for hours by asking questions: ‘Why is the sky blue? Why does the sun shine? Does God really listen to us when we pray?’ That kind of stuff. I loved listening to her talk.” Viggo paused for a moment and bitterness crept into his voice. “No father should have to bury his child.”

“She died?”

“Of course,” he said with the resignment of someone who had buried too many close to him. But then he raised his head high and a proud smile played around his lips. “She was 83 and left behind three children, seven grandchildren and two great-grandchildren.”

“Oh, so you stayed around after... you know.”

“Not quite. I made sure I knew what was going on in her life. But I never spoke to her again. We are jumping ahead in the story, though.” Viggo rallied visibly, returning to the topic at hand. “As you well suspected, I realized I was neither boring nor uptight enough to be a lawyer for the rest of my life. The routine soon became tiresome, the work monotonous and repetitive. The cases and people were petty and trivial. Despite the happiness I felt among my family, my work soon gave me the feeling of being buried alive. To relieve some of my frustration I started to sketch, something I had not done since my youth. I went on to pastels and eventually painted in oils. It was all in good fun. For recreation, as you would say nowadays. However, my amateurish work attracted the interest of a woman spending the summer in Marseille. Her name was Elenor and nobody quite knew who she was and where she had come from. She travelled alone, something that surely was to attract suspicion in that day and age. But she was fierce and outspoken, so no one dared to confront her openly. She could also be very persuasive – I think she had all the menfolk eating from her hands. For some reason, she took an interest in me, telling me I had talent. She told me this bourgeois life would kill all my inspiration. I should run away with her, see the world, paint, love. She could be very dramatic when the mood took her.”

“You mean, she had the hots for you,” Orlando clarified.

“You could put it that way.” Viggo chuckled, despite himself. “I never meant to leave my family, though. My life bored me, but I loved them! Elenor realized that eventually. I think it hurt her pride that I chose Marianne and Cecille over her. She wouldn’t accept that, so she forced me to come with her.”

“How?” Orlando’s eyebrows drew together.

“Can’t you guess? She was such an enigma, because she was a vampire. One night, she invited me to her hotel room under some false pretense. She told me who she was, and what life she could offer me. Still, I wasn’t tempted. She turned me anyway and by that, bound me to her.”

Orlando’s frown deepened. “Just like that?”

“Just like that.” Viggo nodded.

“She made you a vampire against your will?” Orlando couldn’t quite believe his ears.

“She did,” Viggo said quietly.

“That’s terrible,” Orlando said with feeling. “She made you something you didn’t want to be! You had a life and a family and she just took it away. There should be a rule against that!”

“Actually, there is one. But what’s done can’t be undone.”

Orlando hoped that that bitch Elenor had gotten what she deserved. Which, in his opinion, was the vampire equivalent of a slow and painful death. He really wanted to ask Viggo what had become of her – apparently, she had no part in his life now – but something else interested him more. “Why didn’t you go back to your family?”

Viggo bit his lip. “If I had been turned in this century, I might have done that. Things are different nowadays and I actually know a few younger vampires who have never cut the bonds with their mortal families. Back then, though, it would have been a preposterous idea. When I was turned, intellectuals and journalists all over Europe were discussing vampires and revenants. They were exhuming bodies and putting stakes through their hearts. During that time, vampires were a very real threat. They were associated with Satan. I couldn’t go to my family and tell them what I had become. Even the alternative, that they believed me dead, was preferable. Elenor knew that and she used it against me.”

“So you went with her and left your family?”

Viggo nodded.

“They never knew what happened to you?” The thought saddened Orlando. Not only had a family been forever seperated. Viggo’s wife and child had lived the rest of their lives with the uncertainty of not knowing what had happened to him.

“No.”

“I’m so sorry.” Orlando’s words were heartfelt. He reached across the table to take Viggo’s hand in his. He gave it a gentle squeeze, showing his support without words.

“I should be sorry, this is in no way the right topic for your birthday celebration. I kind of killed the mood, didn’t I?”

“Oh bollocks,” Orlando said with conviction. “I’m glad you told me. I wanted to know, remember?” He lifted Viggo’s hand to his lips and gave the cool skin a heartfelt kiss. His hand wasn’t quite where Viggo wanted to be kissed, though, because he reached for Orlando’s head and leaned in for a proper kiss.

“Mhm, the Veuve makes your lips taste even sweeter,” he commented after they had parted.

Orlando threw him a come-hither-look. “You know, flattery will get you everywhere.”

“I hope so.” Viggo looked at Orlando, who got the impression that the vampire was undressing him with his eyes alone.

“I’ve already eaten, but I know you must be hungry as well.” He winked. “But we can sit here a while longer if you want. Talk about your family?”

Viggo shook his head. “That’s a kind gesture, but I meant what I said. It’s not really the right kind of topic for such a joyful occasion. I should have realized that earlier.”

Orlando decided to let the topic rest. He knew by now that Viggo could only take so much talking about himself before he shut himself off. Evidently, that point was reached now. His curiosity regarding Elenor wasn’t at all sated yet, but there would be other opportunities to learn more about her. And in one regard Viggo was right: This was a joyful occasion. He didn’t really want to spend his birthday with nothing but talk. It was time they got to the steamy part he had been promised!

~*~

Deep in his heart, Orlando had hoped that today would be the day (or rather: night) Viggo took him to his own flat. In his opinion, his birthday would have been the perfect occasion. However, Viggo had planned ahead and circumvented the topic elegantly by leading Orlando not out of the hotel but up to the second floor: He had booked accomodation there, which wasn’t quite what Orlando had hoped for – until Viggo put the key card in and opened the door.

“A suite? You’re absolutely crazy!”

“I’ve heard that accusation one or two times in my lifetime.” Viggo looked very pleased with himself and followed Orlando into the room.

“I bet!” Orlando threw over his shoulder before he took off like a hound sniffing for game. He explored the suite thoroughly: He looked out of each window and into every cupboard. He let himself fall into a plush armchair and took off his shoes so he could dig his toes deep into the thick carpet. With a sigh of contentment, he revelled in the mere luxury of the furnishings for a moment. He was even tempted to switch on the huge telly, but stopped himself at the last possible moment. Watching tv was pretty low on his agenda right now, he had a stunning vampire to attend to after all!

“You spoil me rotten,” he told Viggo, though he knew Viggo would take that as a compliment. “It’s almost a shame we’ll do nothing but lie in bed.”

Which reminded him that he hadn’t checked out the bedroom yet. He supposed it was hiding behind the prominent double doors across from him, so he stood and walked over.

“Wow,” was all he could say once he had opened the doors. The kingsize bed was a masterpiece, huge and decorated with dozens of cushions. He took a little inrun and jumped onto it. The mattress didn’t even give a squeak of protest. Viggo followed him into the bedroom in a more sedate manner before stopping in front of the bed and looking at Orlando fondly. Viggo started to remove his cufflinks, letting them slip into the pocket of his jacket before he took it off and let it fall to the floor.

“Planning something?” Orlando asked innocently, raising an eyebrow in question.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Viggo answered, feigning cluelessness. “It’s been a long night. Maybe we should just lie down a bit and catch some sleep?”

Orlando grabbed a random cushion and threw it at Viggo who caught it deftly. Probably those damn vampire reflexes. “You don’t sleep, remember?”

“Oh, right.” Viggo nodded sagely as if he was thankful Orlando had provided such crucial information. Then he looked thoughtful, like he was trying very hard to come up with an alternative. In the end, he shrugged. “I guess we’ll have to find something else to do.” He started to losen his bow tie, but Orlando kneeled on the bed and slapped Viggo’s hands away.

“Let me,” Orlando offered. Undoing the bow tie was quite easy and he let it fall to the floor, joining the jacket. Orlando took a critical look at his work so far and was pleased. “I’ve been wanting to do that ever since you rang the doorbell today. You look absolutely hot in a tuxedo, let me assure you. But personally, I’d prefer more naked skin. You’re wearing way too many clothes.”

“Do something about it then,” Viggo prompted, his voice husky. Orlando was more than ready to take him up on the offer. His hands attacked the top button of Viggo’s dress shirt, while Orlando’s mouth attacked Viggo’s in a likewise fashion: desperately and sloppily. The kiss was an unelegant affair of lips and teeth clashing together, but Orlando found it most pleasurable. He gently bit into Viggo’s upper lip, which caused the other man to attack Orlando’s mouth with even more vigour. Orlando was hard pressed not to lose the rhythm of his fingers or totally forget that he meant to undress Viggo. With effort, he managed to open the first two buttons. That freed the delicate skin of Viggo’s throat to Orlando’s frantic ministrations. He let his fingers brush over Viggo’s pulse, eliciting a moan from the vampire – he had learned by now that Viggo was very receptive there. Then his fingertips caressed the spot of soft skin below his throat. Viggo’s shoulderblades followed and then he reached as low as the garment allowed in the hopes of catching a nipple. He wasn’t quite successful – too many closed buttons were between his hands and his goal on Viggo’s chest, but Viggo seemed to enjoy the touch anyway. He broke the kiss in favour of drawing in a sharp breath. They stayed motionless for a moment, both breathing harshly and their bodies mere inches from each other. Orlando looked into Viggo’s face and found his eyes to be a bottomless blue.

“Seems like you want to lead tonight,” Viggo stated and he licked his lips in anticipation.

“Yeah, sounds like a plan” Orlando confirmed. Having Viggo at his command sounded like the best aphrodisiac he could imagine. He attacked the shirt buttons with renewed resolve and did not let himself be distracted before the shirt was open. He slid the garment off Viggo’s shoulders, aiming for as much skin contact as possible along the way, before it fell to the floor.

“Much better,” Orlando commented and looked his fill. His eyes roamed over the planes of Viggo’s chest, so very different from own, which – in comparison – looked quite tan, even if English summers didn’t provide too many chances to catch some uninterrupted sun. Viggo lifted a hand to draw Orlando to himself and the play of muscle underneath his pale skin was Orlando’s undoing. It was such a simple gesture, but it made Orlando’s heart hammer in his chest. He let himself be drawn into Viggo’s embrace and attacked his lover’s mouth again, letting his fingers play idly with Viggo’s hair. He rubbed his still fully clothed body against Viggo’s naked chest. Viggo’s reaction was an appreciative rumble that Orlando rather felt than heard. He smiled into their kiss and let his hands fall down, because he wanted to touch Viggo wherever possible. He pinched his nipples and felt them harden under his caress. Viggo swayed towards him in an effort to get more friction, more touch. He moaned into their kiss and his tongue danced with Orlando’s with something akin to desperation. The urgency was almost painful, almost too much, but Orlando held on and gave as much as he received. His eyes were closed and he let himself be swept away for a moment, being carried across oceans by Viggo’s kiss.

It had to end at some point, because it simply became too intense, too forceful. Orlando broke the kiss, but he could not keep from touching Viggo for too long. Of their own accord, his lips found Viggo’s throat, imitating the vampire’s Kiss. He sucked gently on the delicate skin, sucking it into his mouth and rolling it between his teeth. Viggo’s reaction was intantaneous.

“Oh, God,” he moaned, a plea for more. Orlando could feel Viggo’s hard length bump into his groin when the vampire humped against him for more friction. He intensified his efforts, biting down with blunt teeth before he let go and gentled the worried skin with a wet lick. Viggo’s breath qickened, puffing hot against Orlando’s ear. His head fell back, baring his throat to Orlando in blatant invitation. Viggo’s arms came around him for support before the vampire sagged slightly. Orlando held on for dear life, trying to hold Viggo up while giving him as much of the caress he so obviously craved.

“Don’t stop,” Viggo managed to mumble almost unintelligebly and Orlando felt Viggo’s heart beat a violent tattoo against his skin. Viggo was aroused beyond coherent thought and the sight in turn caused Orlando’s blood to boil. He wanted to see Viggo unravelled by desire, wanted to see him become a sweating, unintelligable mess under his hands.

Only a moment later, he got what he wanted. He breathed cool air onto Viggo’s throat, which unmade the vampire. Orlando felt Viggo’s knees buckle and then they tumbled onto the bed, all entangled limbs and sweaty skin.

Viggo came to lie above him, almost – but not quite – crushing him. He buried his face in the crook of Orlando’s neck and inhaled deeply, maybe in an effort to get his bearings back. Experimentally, Orlando raised his hips slightly to get in better contact with Viggo’s arousal and the other man gave a groan. His lips moved against Orlando’s throat. Belatedly, Orlando realized Viggo was speaking in a barely controlled voice. “If you’re not naked in five seconds, I can’t guarantee anything.”

“Five?” Orlando asked in a small voice, trying to get his hands between them to start on the fly of his trousers.

“Four,” Viggo counted down and in a flurry of motion they both divested each other of the rest of their clothes until they were lying naked in the soft bed, panting harshly.

Neither ever tired of touching the other. Ever since Viggo had bitten Orlando’s thigh, the spot was overly sensitive, a fact Viggo chose to exploit at every chance he got. The vampire’s thumb brushed Orlando’s inner thigh while his lips nibbed at Orlando’s shoulderblade. The double assault made Orlando see stars and he held on to Viggo with something resembling desperation. It seemed the tables had turned suddenly, because Viggo had Orlando at his mercy – yet again. He could make Orlando moan incoherently, could make him hiss with pleasure, could make him pass out from sheer lust. And Orlando assumed he slowly became addicted to all those sensations.

Orlando reached between them and took hold of their straining cocks, joining them together in his hand. The sound Viggo made at the caress could almost be called a whimper and Orlando stroked their arousals firmly, enjoying the feel of Viggo’s length hot and hard in his grasp. Their breathing turned harsh and laboured and was the only sound that filled the room.

“Want you now,” he whispered and lifted his hips in invitation. He drew his knees up to give Viggo better access.

“Yes,” Viggo hissed, anticipation evident in his voice. He sought Orlando’s gaze and for a moment all movement ceased and they simply looked at each other, suspended in the moment. Orlando knew Viggo long enough now to recognize the hunger in his eyes. But he also recognized that not only hunger for his blood was visible in Viggo’s gaze. He hungered for Orlando, for his body, his touch and his kiss. The realization gave him a thrill everytime.

The moment ended when Viggo started to move again and his hand joined Orlando’s in his effort to bring them both pleasure. The continuation of their lovemaking lasted only a moment though, because Viggo suddenly stopped, suspended between one stroke and the next.

“What’s wrong?” Orlando asked, desperately hoping for more of Viggo’s expert touch – and soon!

“I really don’t want to let go of you right now,” Viggo managed in a strained voice, “but the lube is in the pocket of my trousers.” Orlando glanced at their surroundings, trying to determine where in the huge bed they were in relation to their clothes. Quite far, apparently. He rolled his eyes, part annoyed and part amused.

“That wouldn’t have happened in my tiny bed,” he chuckled while Viggo reluctantly removed himself from Orlando to crawl across the vast expanse of white cushions to make a grab for his trousers. Viggo shot him an exasperated look and Orlando actually giggled. Stark naked, skin glistening with sweat and on all fours, Viggo was a sight to behold. Viggo smirked and moved languidly with the lube in hand, giving Orlando apt opportunity to look his fill. It was intensely erotic and suddenly, all of Orlando’s blood seemed to rush into his nether parts. His cock was desperate for some attention and Orlando stroked himself, keeping himself entertained until Viggo was back and could take over.

 _You’re beautiful,_ Orlando thought, because it was too much effort to speak out loud. Looking at Viggo, Orlando saw that beauty clearly, though he felt unable to properly describe it. But he knew it was the result of many things: strength, love, tenderness, fierceness. And yes, even the secrets and the danger and the part of Viggo that was past human. Was past what Orlando’s mortal mind could grasp and understand.

“Not as beautiful as you,” Viggo said quietly while he coated his fingers with lube. He ran his hand across Orlando’s cheeks, seeking the hole. “So vivid,” he said and a first probing finger entered Orlando, stroking his inner walls. “So alive,” Viggo continued, finding Orlando’s prostrate and stroking it until Orlando was mewling with pleasure, his legs falling apart to give Viggo as much access as possible. “So trusting.” Another finger was added, just enough titillation to keep him on the edge of a precipice, but not enough to let him tumble.

“Viggo,” he ordered, his voice hoarse and his mind unable to come up with a more elaborate command. The vampire understood anyway and removed his fingers, replacing them with his cock. Poised like this, Viggo’s hand sought Orlando’s, entwining them on the sheets.

“Ready to fly?” he asked and only a moment later he was entering Orlando, completing him, and Orlando gave a cry of pure pleasure. This very moment, when they became one in body and in mind, was what he had been waiting for. If it were possible he would stop time right here, right now, to be able to feel like this for the rest of his life. Viggo, in that eery way of his, seemed to anticipate Orlando’s reaction and he drew out the moment for as long as possible. He held himself still, giving Orlando time to enjoy the feeling of them being joined so intimately.

In the end, Viggo had to move. He rocked into Orlando experimentally, conquering with deepening strokes what was his anyway. He drew out almost entirely before pushing back in, deep and hard. The motion caused Orlando’s moans to intensify and he molded his body to Viggo’s in the hope of getting even nearer, of crawling into him if that were at all possible. They found a rhythm soon, their bodies slick with sweat and moving as one. The sound of Viggo’s harsh breathing filled Orlando’s ears while he held on for dear life, letting Viggo give him pleasure. Viggo bowed his head to steal a kiss, but Orlando knew it was not the taste of his lips that Viggo craved at this point. He turned his head to the side and bared his neck in blatant invitation, urging the vampire to drink his fill. Viggo didn’t hesitate for long. His mouth closed over Orlando’s pulse point and Orlando heard his own heart beat loudly in his ear. When it finally came, the sting of Viggo’s bite was short and almost insubstantial in comparison to the overall pleasure he was experiencing. It was certainly nothing compared to the flood of emotion and arousal that crashed together above his head like a tidal wave. Their lovemaking became more frantic, their movements less controlled until Orlando felt Viggo come and spill himself in him. He felt the force of Viggo’s mind pushing him as much over the edge as the expert touches Viggo was bestowing upon his body.

Every cell of his body was aflame for a second, two, three and he prayed that it would never end. But then the world became still around him and all he felt was Viggo’s presence in his mind.

~*~

Orlando gasped in surprise when the darkness receded, but he was firmly held in Viggo’s arms. “Welcome back.”

“Oh, crap. This is getting tiresome,” Orlando complained.

“Really?” Viggo wanted to know, sounding amused. “I got the impression you rather enjoyed it.”

Orlando squinted at Viggo and then extricated a hand to pinch one of his nipples. “Of course I enjoyed it. I meant the fainting part. I feel like a character in a Jane Austen novel.”

Viggo bit his lip to keep from laughing. “It’s getting better, I promise. You only lost a few seconds. You came around almost immediately.”

“Truly?” Orlando asked, snuggling deeper into Viggo’s embrace.

“Truly.”

They were propped up in bed, Orlando safely in Viggo’s arms and apparently the vampire hadn’t lied. It seemed Orlando hadn’t lost much time at all, he could still feel the afterschock of his orgasm and his body certainly hadn’t cooled down much yet. The bitemark Viggo had left on Orlando’s throat tingled slightly, a welcome reminder of their most recent joining.

“Mhm,” Orlando mumbled, a thousand thoughts swirling in his mind. “I could get used to this, you know?”

“Which part of _this_ you mean?”

“Apart from the overall pleasing package?”

“Yeah, apart from that,” Viggo chuckled.

“Opening a vein for you, I guess. It would have never thought that could be so pleasurable. If I had known, I would probably have shown up in _Fangtastic_ much earlier!”

“I like that as well.” Viggo brushed a finger against the sensitive bitemark he had left on Orlando’s throat. Orlando shivered at the touch, his skin instinctively remembering the caresses he had received so recently.

Orlando looked at Viggo, taking on a scandalized air. “So I’m just a snack for you?” It was meant as a joke, but Viggo looked actually horrified at the notion.

“Of course not! I hope you realize you’re not just food for me!” He spoke the word with disdain in his voice and Orlando chided himself for effectively killing the mood. _Good job, Bloom!_

“I do, I’m sorry, Viggo. That was a bad attempt at a joke.” Orlando let his hand run up and down Viggo’s arm in what he hoped was a soothing gesture. “And I meant what I said. I like being yours and that includes bleeding for you a little.”

“Mine,” Viggo confirmed, but his voice sounded far away. “I like the sound of that. Actually, I have something for you.”

“You’re nutters,” Orlando laughed. “You bought me a tux, took me to the theatre, to a restaurant, you fed me champagne, paid for a suite, gave me an intense orgasm and _now_ you say you have something for me?”

“Yes,” Viggo said simply as if he didn’t realize what the problem was. He extricated himself from their embrace and moved to the side of the bed, where their clothes were still lying in a heap on the floor. He found his trousers and rummaged through his pockets. When he reappeared, he held a small box in his hands. To Orlando’s eyes it looked very much like a box that could house a ring and for a moment the crazy thought that Viggo was about to propose to him, seized him. He didn’t know how he felt about that. The feeling was probably in equal parts ecstasy and panic.

Viggo rejoined Orlando on the bed and gave him the box, opening it with a click.

Okay, so there was jewellery in it, but no rings or diamonds were involved, so it was probably safe. In fact, it looked a lot less costly than he was coming to expect from Viggo. He lifted a hand and took out the necklace. A small pendant was dangling from it and if he applied some fantasy to the design, it could almost be a V. Between the two arms of the letter there was some kind of red glass or stone.

 _Pretty,_ was the first thought that came to mind. But _pretty_ was kind of a small word for anything that had to do with Viggo.

Orlando must have looked a little perplexed, because Viggo started to explain. “It’s what we call a _sigil_. It’s a mark, showing that you’re under my protection. If you ever plan to go to _Fangtastic_ again, no other vampire will approach you.”

Orlando did the math: “Because it says I’m yours.” So, it was a bit like a wedding ring afer all.

“Yes.” Viggo seemed unsure of how his present would be received. “Would you consider wearing it? Or am I assuming too much?”

It was a mystery to Orlando how someone who was able to read his mind, could still be so unsure about his reaction. Of course he would wear it. It would be an honour to wear it. “I will, I’d love to.”

Viggo released a breath and smiled shakily. “May I?” he asked, lifting the necklace. Orlando nodded and moments later he was wearing his new charm. He touched the chain reverently. “What kind of stone is that?” he asked.

“Actually, that might be a bit gross. Maybe. It depends.”

“Now I really want to know what kind of stone it is.”

“It’s not a stone. It’s glass. It’s red because it’s a tiny phial filled with my blood.”

“Erm, okay.”

Viggo was fidgeting. “Just a drop. Well, even less. A tiny, tiny amount.” He looked at Orlando with pleading eyes. “With vampires, everything is about blood in the end. It’s just how it’s done and it wouldn’t work otherwise.”

Orlando tried to decide whether he was grossed out or not. He lifted the pendant, but to him it still looked like a red stone. Then something else occured to him. “So you have opened a vein for me as well. It means you will be with me always.” Looking at it from this angle, he was definitely not grossed out. “I’ll not take it off, I promise.”

“Thank you,” Viggo said, letting out a breath. “It means a lot to me.”

“That’s good, because it means a lot to me as well.”

Orlando snuggled deeper into Viggo’s embrace, feeling sleep overcome him. He drew lazy circles on Viggo’s chest and listened to the vampire’s slow heartbeat. He could fall asleep like this. Actually, it was very likely that he would fall asleep like this any minute now.

“You sleep as long as you like. The suite is paid for, breakfast is included. Personally, I’d recommend taking a hot bath when you wake up. The tub in the bathroom is huge.”

“Whatever,” Orlando mumbled. “I hope you know that this was the best birthday I’ve ever spent. Great all around and I got to spend it with a very special person.”

“Yeah. Who?” Viggo asked like he was actually curious who Orlando meant.

“You, of course.” Orlando gave Viggo a little shove, hoping to make his words stick. “You’ll never be able to get rid of me, I warn you!”

Moments later, Orlando was asleep, so he didn’t hear Viggo’s murmured answer: “And why would I ever want to get rid of you?”

_\- The End_

_(January 2011)_

**Notes:**

  * Ian McKellen and Patrick Stewart really starred in a production of _Waiting for Godot_ together. That was in 2009. Of course, this doesn’t fit with the fact that the With-Verse is set in the late 1990’s.

  * The sigil Viggo gives Orlando is inspired by two sources. The first is real vampyre culture, where sigils are used to identify members of a certain house. For more information, please consult [Sanguinarius](http://www.sanguinarius.org/). The fact that the sigil actually holds a bit of Viggo’s blood is inspired (yet again) by Anne Rice, especially the story of David and Armand.

  * The _Browns Hotel_ does exist. So does the monkfish curry. I did use some artistic license where the restaurant is concerned. I actually described the interior of the _Donovan Bar_ (because I thought it was a perfect choice for Viggo) instead of the _HIX_ , which in reality is the restaurant.

  * A vampire keeping track of his human offspring is not at all uncommon in vampire fiction. Maharet does so in Anne Rice’s _Vampire Chronicles_. Julian does the same in _Kindred: The Embraced_. In short, Viggo is in good company.





End file.
